


My Only Crime

by WinterLanding



Category: Charlie's Angels (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Loss of Virginity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:26:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21832066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterLanding/pseuds/WinterLanding
Summary: I'm working on another piece, but I needed to get into the groove of writing again. I recently rewatched Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle, which is one of my favorite guilty pleasure films. Afterward, I wondered, what would have happened if events played out differently for Seamus and Dylan (aka Helen)?This, I would like to imagine. Nobody asked for it, but here it is anyway.Seamus O'Grady was a hot bad boy, and this is mostly to redeem his character.The title takes its name from one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite bands, Highasakite.Enjoy!
Relationships: Seamus O'Grady/Dylan Sanders
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

Helen dragged herself into the dark Cancun bar. 

She'd only stopped because it looked like she felt: run down, nearly empty, but still functioning despite the odds against it. 

She ignored the man who leered at her, dodging his reach as he attempted to slap her rump. She wandered into the furthest corner of the bar and flopped onto the rickety barstool. 

She'd been driving for hours, no real destination in mind, simply heading south. First Mexico, and next...who knew?

Helen didn't. Nor did she really care. 

"Dos tequilas, por favor," Helen muttered when the bartender came her way. 

The bartender, bless him, said nothing, just poured the two shots and slid them her way. He nodded and left her alone, sauntering down to the other side of the bar to chat with another man. 

Helen downed the first shot quickly. 

Propping her cheek in her hand, she stared morosely down at the other shot. 

She didn't want to leave Nat and Alex. 

These past few years had been the best years of her life. She had learned so much about life and friendship, stuff she'd have never learned being Helen Zaas, girlfriend to the O'Grady heir, always sick about hiding in a life of crime and trying to turn a blind eye to the horrors that life entailed. 

Helen had been so young and naive, thinking Seamus was like her. That he believed in a better life, something other than a life of violence and crime. 

Helen had been very, very wrong. 

Thank God she had fallen in with the right crowd, by sheer dumb luck. Livin' On A Prayer, indeed. The Angels were, almost literally, her saving grace. She didnt want to leave them. Ever. 

She'd have never learned about real trust, and she would have never found a family, if it weren't for them. 

Which was exactly why Helen _had_ to leave. She would never, ever endanger her friends. Sure, their jobs were pretty much danger personified, but they worked as a team. They worked quick and clean. 

This nightmare with the rings and the O'Grady clan was too messy and complicated. At least her disappearance would simplify one problem. Nobody could tie Alex and Natalie to Dylan Saunders, Aka Helen Zaas, if she kept moving, staying out of reach. 

Helen took her last shot and stood, sighing. She dug out some pesos and left them on the counter. She felt woozy, and needed some air. She just barely made it out the door before the dizziness hit her hard. 

"Damn," Helen muttered, leaning against the building, slowly making her way back to the car. What was in that tequila? Had she become a lightweight, getting completely wasted on two shots?

Helen spotted her car and forced herself, one foot at a time, toward it. She just wanted to lock herself in and pass out. 

She fumbled in her pockets for her keys. Where were they? She could barely keep her eyes open as she struggled, patting herself down.

Suddenly, a large hand covered hers. She felt the presence of a man behind her, his breathy voice warm in her ear.

"Ah, Helen. You've had a bit too much to drive. I'm surprised you'd drive in this condition, being the little rule follower you are."

Helen would have recognized that voice anywhere. Like raspy gravel, coated in a thick Northern Ireland accent. 

"Seamus," she croaked weakly, turning to see his wicked grin. 

It was him. Of course it was. She was stupid to think she would have gotten any further without him noticing. 

"Hello, Helen. Here, let me drive you," he mumured, sliding his hands into her back pocket, cupping her ass deliberately before producing her keys, jingling them just in front of her face. "And, here we are."

Seamus scooped her up in his arms and she was too weak to do anything but let him carry her the short distance to her car. 

Helen woke slowly, feeling as if she were fighting her way up from underwater. 

"Shh," a voice said. "Calm yourself, Helen. You've been thrashing about like a fish on a line."

That voice. It was like a douse of cold water.

Helen sat straight up, her breath caught in her throat. 

She was in some sort of motel room, by the look of it. The streetlights from outside glowed dimly against the cracked shade on the window. She was also in a bed, Helen noted, clad in nothing but a white tshirt and what looked like men's boxer briefs. 

Seamus sat perched on the bed beside her, smirking.

"Had to make sure you weren't armed. Couldn't have you killing me when my back was turned. At least, not until we've had a proper chat."

Helen shook her head, trying to clear her mind. "You...drugged me."

Seamus shook his head in mock surprise. "Well, no, the bartender did that."

"Oh, the bartender did it? The bartender who you paid, or threatened, or bribed? No games, Seamus! What do you want?"

All traces of amusement fled his features. "I want a lot of things, Helen. I want the time back I spent in prison. Can you give me that? I want the time I spent with you when we were young and stupid. And I was really stupid, Helen. You know, my family hated me being with you. Said you weren't cut out for our kind of life, that you were a liability." Seamus gave a dry laugh. "If only I'd listened. You were the worst kind of liability, weren't you? A bloody narc."

Helen stayed silent. She looked into Seamus's eyes and held his gaze. "Seamus...I just want you to know something."

"What?"

Helen smiled and raised her hand slowly, cupping his cheek. Her thumb gently rasped along his jawline. 

"I'd do it all again, Seamus. I have no regrets."

With that, she raised her thumb and jabbed it into his eye as hard as she could. With her other hand, she grabbed him by the neck and slung him away from her. 

He was stunned, but only for the space of a moment. Helen had already made it to the door, and was fighting to rip open the bolt when he grabbed her. 

"Damn you, Helen!" Seamus wrestled her back to the bed, countering every move she made. He flung himself on top of her, pinning her arms. 

Helen struggled mightily, but it was no use. 

"I don't want to hurt you," Seamus growled, close to her face. "I told you, a chat. Then I'll let you go."

Helen snorted. "Like I'm supposed to believe that." She drove her hips upward, in an attempt to use her lower body to fling him away from her. 

Seamus took on a pained, peculiar expression. " _Don't_ ," he said tightly.

"Like hell," she retorted, bucking again. 

Seamus took his leg and shoved it into the apex of her thighs. She bucked again, and the friction startled her. It felt good, which only made her more furious in her position. 

Seamus shook his head at her antics, as if she were an annoying child. 

"Are you ready to talk, Helen?"

She huffed. "Fine. Talk."

Seamus nodded, but didn't budge. "If I let go, will you be a good girl, Helen? Or will you be the traitorous bitch that you've always been?"

Helen shrugged carelessly, which wasn't easy considering she could barely move her upper body.

"Guess I can be a good girl for a few minutes, Seamus. Whatever your warped view of a good girl might be, anyway."

"If you try anything else, Helen, I'll kill you. As much as it will pain me, I'll do it. So let's not bring it to that, if you don't mind? Let's have a civilized conversation."

He released her and she rubbed her aching wrists, slowly scooting into a sitting position. 

Seamus scooted backward, so they faced one another, from a safe distance. 

"I thought about you every day in prison," Seamus ran his hand over his jaw thoughtfully. "Thought about killing you. How I was going to kill you. Did you ever think about me, Helen?"

"I tried _not_ to. Every day."

"Ah...but did you succeed at not thinking about me every day?"

"No, you arrogant prick. I thought about you. Sometimes."

"Prick?" Seamus smiled slowly. "It's more than a prick, to be sure. I would have thought you'd remember that, Helen."

Helen felt her cheeks flush. "It's not like I had anything else to compare it to...for all I knew back then, it was just a prick," she hissed. 

Seamus licked his lips and narrowed his eyes. "And now? Was it just a little prick, Helen?"

Helen blushed furiously. "We're not here to chat about your dick, are we? Is that why you went to all that trouble to bring me here?"

Seamus shrugged. "Maybe in part. But you're right. Business first."

Seamus reached into his pocket and pulled out the H.A.L.O rings. 

Helen eyed him warily. "Why do you want those, Seamus?"

Seamus smiled. "I was locked away a long time, Helen. A man can't make a living when he's locked away from the world."

Seamus jostled the rings from palm to palm. "Of course, in prison, I did have an epiphany."

He held the rings in one huge hand, then closed it, the rings swallowed up neatly. 

"One big job. The biggest job of my career, short as it was. Then I can retire. Give my percentage to the family, leave the country. Start over somewhere else."

Helen waited, but he said nothing, just staring at his closed fist.

"What job?" She asked him. "And what makes you think your family would just let you go?"

Seamus looked back up at her. 

"I'm here to sell these to the highest bidder. The money they offered, well....my family will understand. Sometimes we make sacrifices for the greater good."

"You call blowing the cover off thousands of people under the witness protection program 'the greater good'?" Helen asked incredulously. 

Seamus chuckled. "No, I don't suppose I do. Of course, having these in my possession have been quite helpful. Helped me find you, didn't they? But Helen, you don't know the best part of the plan."

"What's that?" Helen asked sarcastically. "You get the money, kill the client, and continue on to the next highest bidder?"

Seamus laughed delightedly. "Oh, Helen! You really were worth all the trouble to find."

With that, he stood abruptly. "Fancy a shower? I know I do. Come join me."

Helen narrowed her eyes. "No way."

Seamus held up his hands, the rings stacked neatly on his index finger. "I won't lay a finger on you," he wiggled the finger wearing the rings.  
"I swear it. Unless you ask me to, of course."

Helen shook her head mutinously. "I said no, Seamus."

Seamus grinned. "What if I told you that after our shower, I would promise to disappear and never bother you again?"

"Just like that?" Helen asked him. 

"Just like that," he agreed. 

Seamus stripped off his shirt one handed, his eyes never leaving hers. He slowly peeled off his jeans, revealing nothing but skin underneath. 

Helen felt her eyes widen for just a beat. 

Seamus smiled. "You mind giving those back?" He nodded towards the underwear she was wearing. 

Helen blinked. "Where are my clothes?"

"Ah, they were filthy, Helen. I've got some stuff in here you can wear."

Helen grit her teeth. "I'd go naked before I wore anything you gave me to wear."

Seamus chuckled darkly. "Not in this town, you won't. A nun wouldn't be safe here."

He strode toward the bathroom. Helen forced herself not to stare at the back view. She cracked, taking a peek. It was pretty spectacular.

A few seconds later, the shower sputtered, then began   
running. 

She could run. But she didn't even know where she was. For all she knew, she'd been out long enough for him to drive her hours away from Cancun. She didn't even know where her car was. Where would she run to?

Or she could stay, get the rings, and then run.   
She could have her old life back. Everyone in the program would be safe again. 

Helen thought for about five seconds. Finally, with a growl, she stood and stalked into the bathroom. 


	2. Chapter 2

Seamus didn't even turn around as Helen joined him in the shower. 

She stood, chilled, watching him in the steamy water. 

Seamus lathered himself lazily with a bar of soap, humming some tune, totally off-key. She almost smiled when she recognized the song. It had been their favorite, once upon a time. Motley Crue, she suddenly remembered. 

His body was honed tightly with muscle and Helen watched in fascination as the soapy lather trailed down every sinewy part of him. Tattoos and scars littered his body. Helen had always loved a bad boy, and she found herself practically salivating over his dark beauty. 

_No_ , she told herself sharply. This was all wrong. 

_There is a difference between a bad boy and a piece of shit, Helen_ , she reminded herself sternly.

She forced herself to focus on the task at hand. 

"Are you going to save some hot water for me?" 

Although she had refused to admit it to him, she felt all sorts of nasty. The sweaty feeling from the heat of the day and the lingering effects of whatever he had drugged her with had her feeling several degrees icky. 

Seamus still didn't turn, just passed her the bar of soap. He rinsed off and slid past her, letting her scoot closer to the shower head. 

Helen tried to ignore the jump in her loins as his skin brushed hers. She took the soap and cleaned herself as quickly as possible. 

She found a tiny bottle of shampoo and was delighted. Until she realized that she would have to turn and face him in order to rinse the shampoo completely from her hair. 

"You know, you don't have to stand there freezing. You can get out," Helen told him. 

"I can't leave you in here alone Helen. For several reasons, but the main one being that I don't want you to pass out in here alone."

"I'm sure you're very concerned," Helen muttered scathingly. She took a breath and turned, refusing to open her eyes as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair. 

Something poked her belly and Helen's eyes flew open. 

Seamus looked back at her, with a stubborn, frustrated expression. 

Helen refused to look down. "Seamus, that better not be what I think it is." She told him fiercely. 

He shrugged. "The shower is small. And I'm only human, you know."

"Scoot back, then!" Helen went back to rinsing her hair. In her haste, the waves began to snarl into tangles, making her task more difficult. 

"I can't scoot any further."

Helen opened her eyes, and glanced down. Which was a mistake. Because he was back as far as he could go, which meant...

She had been wrong about the prick comment. And the front of him was just as... _interesting_ , as the back view. 

She swallowed, forcing her eyes back up toward his face. Feeling the slightest pressure against her stomach, she was no longer horrified. Her heart began to beat faster, her skin flushed, and her nipples tightened into embarrassingly hard peaks. 

She was _not_ turned on right now. Oh, please not now. 

Seamus let his gaze trail over her lazily. His half smile let her know that he didn't miss her body's reaction to him. 

He didn't move a muscle. Just waited for her to finish. 

She reached down to turn off the water, but Seamus stopped her. 

"Wait. I need to tell you something first."

Helen paused her movements, and straightened, eyeing him warily. 

"I'm going to lean closer, but I swear, I won't hurt you. Just have to be sure..." He leaned in slowly, and Helen froze. 

"I _am_ going to kill the buyer of the rings. Clever girl. You know me well. Or maybe you're not such a good girl after all, hmm Helen? But I'm not going to sell them. I'm going to turn them back in to the FBI."

Helen leaned back, soaking her face. She sputtered and leaned sideways, swiping at her eyes. 

"Why would you want to do that?" 

Something was off, here. Seamus O'Grady, cooperating with the FBI?

Seamus shrugged. "Maybe I don't want to live like a criminal forever. Maybe I want to make this one worth my while so I can live the rest of my life in peace. Probably won't be a very long life, anyway," he flashed a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But at least I can live it my way, not taking orders from someone who just sees me as another pawn in the game."

Helen studied him a long while He actually seemed sincere.

"Anyway, I just wanted you to know that," Seamus shrugged. "The rings are going back to where they belong. So there's no need to try to kill me and take them back yourself. I'd hate for one of us to die over these."

Helen blinked. "What if....what if you do die, Seamus? This person obviously isn't working alone. What if they plan to kill you and take the rings?"

Seamus chuckled. "You worried about me, Helen?"

Helen scowled. "You should have thought it through."

Seamus shrugged. "If I die, I die. It's pretty likely I was going to die on some job anyway, wasn't it? This is the life I lead, Helen. And if I don't die, well....I don't die." He reached down to turn the shower off. Helen hadn't even noticed that the water had gone lukewarm. 

"For what it's worth, it was good to see you one last time, Helen." His eyes caressed her tenderly. Then he stepped out of the shower. 

Helen followed him numbly, taking the towel her offered her. They both dried off in silence. He pointed to a stack of clothes on the small bathroom counter. She was delighted to see they were all her size, and in a style she approved of. Worn black jeans that fit her like a glove. A black bra and matching undies, and a David Bowie concert shirt that was so soft, it might even be authentically aged. 

She smiled to herself as she dressed. She looked up at Seamus, who watched her with an unreadable expression. 

"You look good," he told her. "You'd look good in anything but....I'm glad they fit."

He strode out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hips. He came back a moment later, setting her bag on the counter, and left her in privacy. 

Helen rummaged through it, finding a comb and her toothbrush and tooothpaste. After making use of the products, she walked out of the bathroom. 

Seamus was dressed, his hair still damp. 

"Couldn't leave without saying goodbye, could we?" His smile was heartbreakingly beautiful. "A proper goodbye."

Helen returned the smile sadly. "Guess not."

Seamus wrapped her gently in his arms. Helen hugged him back, her eyes squeezed shut, relishing the feeling of Seamus in her arms. 

Which was insane. 

Helen raised her head to take one last look at him. He met her eyes. 

She couldn't say who kissed who first. Maybe they reached for each other at the same time. 

All she knew was that his mouth was hot and exciting on hers. She kissed him back, tangling her hands in his hair, unconsciously pulling him closer. 

Seamus gave a low groan into her mouth, which made her crazy. Running her hands along his torso, she slid them under his shirt, up his smooth, flat stomach and up his broad back. 

He returned the favor, keeping his mouth on hers as slid his hands under her shirt. Up her back, then slowly down, up again along her ribs.... 

Helen thought she would go up in flames as he teased the undersides of her breasts, his thumbs coming up to stroke her nipples. 

She whimpered, needing something more, but she didn't know what she needed or how to ask for it. Seamus wrenched his mouth from hers, ripping his shirt off, then gently removing hers, pulling her toward him again. His kisses rained along her jaw and neck as he unfastened her bra with alacrity. 

As the garment slid away, Helen sighed in pleasure. She and Seamus were skin to skin, his chest teasing her breasts. Seamus all but crushed her to him, but Helen didn't care. She wanted to be closer to him, too.... So much closer. 

Seamus kissed her neck, his tongue flicking out to trace erotic patterns on her skin as his mouth went lower and lower. 

Somehow Seamus maneuvered them both to the bed and Helen lay underneath him, gripping his head as he kissed one breast, then the other. His tongue lapped at one nipple and Helen's back arched. 

"Oh!" She moaned. 

Seamus chuckled low in his throat and repeated the action on her other nipple. The sensation burned in the most pleasurable way, all the way throughout her body.

Helen was practically panting when Seamus raised his head, kissing her once more. 

"Helen," his voice was a gruff whisper. 

"Yes," she knew intuitively what he was asking, and she couldn't bear to stop now. She wanted him. It was stupid and crazy, but she didn't care. She couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else. 

Seamus stood and stripped off his pants, his hot gaze never leaving her body. She watched helplessly as he stood before her half-naked body, coming toward her slowly, almost as if he were a predator and she the prey. 

She *was prey. She was completely vulnerable right now, and the thought excited her. 

_You deserve whatever comes next,_ a voice in her head said in a disgusted tone. 

Seamus slowly removed her pants, showering kisses along each measure of exposed skin. He tenderly bit at her thighs as he removed her underwear. Spreading her legs, his eyes looked black as he stared at her. 

"I've wanted this since we were sixteen, Helen," he was over her, his erection nudging her, making her nervous and excited and she ached for him....

"Seamus," she moaned. She wanted to tell him he was the first, that she had always planned for him to the be the first, but the words were stuck in her throat. 

Seamus lowered himself further, carefully avoiding to flatten her with his weight. He rubbed his dick against her, right where she ached the most. She felt a hot rush of wetness soak her folds and she instinctively spread her legs further for him. 

Seamus kissed her and guided himself in her slowly. 

Helen tensed, feeling him stretch inside her. 

He drove his hips slowly forward, meeting a barrier. "What's this...?"

He stopped abruptly, staring down at her. "You're still a virgin?"

Helen felt her face warm. "I....yeah. I am."

Seamus blinked down at her in shock. 

"You were always going to be the first, I guess." Helen didn't think before she spoke and cringed. She'd sent him to prison, but she'd saved herself for him? She was an idiot!

Seamus didn't seem to think so. He kissed her again, stroking her gently. He teased her entrance, stretching her a bit further. The pain was there, but Helen knew he wasn't completely in yet. 

The anticipation was killing her. "Seamus," she whispered, "please, hurry."

Seamus shook his head, smiling wickedly. "Oh no, Helen. I'm going to enjoy this."

He slid down her body, trailing kisses along her stomach. His mouth reached her sex and he kissed it as well. 

"Seamus," Helen groaned.

Seamus spread her legs and lowered his head, licking her cleft with long, teasing strokes. 

Helen whimpered as he buried his face in the most intimate part of her. 

"Seamus!" Helen cried out as he began to lick faster. Suddenly his hand joined his mouth, his thumb gently circling her clit. 

"Ohhhh, my _God_ ," Helen moaned as she came, her body writhing. 

Seamus gave her wet sex a final kiss as her shudders subsided, wiping his face on the comforter. He kissed her thoroughly, and Helen tasted herself on him. 

"Mmmm, Helen," Seamus murmured. "I think you're as ready as you'll ever be."

He guided himself between her legs once again, sliding easily into her, his huge cock stretching her once again. 

"I'm sorry to hurt you, Helen. But the pain won't last. I'll make it go away," Seamus promised quietly.

He kissed her deeply as he drove into her. 

Helen gave a little cry at the sharp pain. But he was right, it didn't last, just faded to a dull burn. 

Seamus paused, letting her get used to the feeling. 

"Are you all right?" He lowered his forehead to hers, waiting for her answer. 

"Yes," she whispered, her hand coming up to stroke the side of his face. 

Seamus began to move in her, and the ache began to turn into pleasure. 

She felt it build, much like before. Her hands gripped his back, and she met him stroke for stroke, groaning as her release came. 

Seamus growled. "God." He buried his face into her neck. "I'm not going to last much longer."

"Neither am I," Helen moaned, grinding against him harder. She was so close....

Helen moaned as a sudden white light blinded her vision. She shuddered around his cock, and he let out a hoarse sound as he came. She felt him pulsing inside her, which made it feel even better than she thought possible. 

Seamus fell against her with a groan. He lay atop her for a long while, then rolled to his side. Helen winced as he slid out of her, feeling a bit tender. He pulled her close to him and she snuggled close.

The intense pleasure was over so quickly, but Helen really couldn't complain. She liked this close, cozy feeling. She felt herself drift off to sleep, content and sated. 

For a first time, that was pretty spectacular. 


	3. Chapter 3

Helen woke up slowly, feeling the warmth of sunlight that flooded the room. She stretched lazily, her body tender in several places. She smiled at the memory. Opening her eyes, she rolled over. 

The bed was empty. And her car keys were on his pillow. 

Helen sat up, all traces of warmth vanishing. 

"Seamus?"

She got up and looked around, but there were no traces of him. 

So he had left, then.

 _Just like that_ , as they'd agreed last night. 

Or...maybe he just stepped out for a moment?

 _He's gone, you idiot_ , the annoyingly sensible voice in her head wouldn't shut up. 

She decided to shower again. Clear her mind. 

Helen took her time, even applying a bit of makeup and arranging her waves loosely. She dressed in the outfit Seamus had given her last night. 

She had packed some bottled water and protein bars. She drained two bottles thirstily, and ate. She repacked neatly. She opened the window shade slightly, and watched the town below.

Seamus had been right. Wherever they were, it was a rough place. 

After two hours, he still didn't materialize. She finally accepted that he wasn't going to. 

Helen grabbed her bag off of the counter. A napkin fluttered to the ground, with a note scrawled across it. Where had it come from?

"It's done. Go home and don't worry." 

Followed by a crudely drawn map, showing her where to retrieve her car.

Helen bit back a ridiculous flood of tears as she recognized the handwriting. Seamus. 

Helen took her lucky lighter and burned the note in the bathroom sink. She turned on the tap and washed the ashes down the drain. 

She checked to make sure she didn't leave anything behind. 

Then she left the room without a backward glance. 

  
"Dylan? Oh my gosh, you're back!"

Helen smiled as Natalie flung her arms around her, returning the hug with equal affection. 

Helen had given herself time to calm down before she came back to California. She had driven along the scenic route, and tried to clear her mind of Seamus. 

She had also taken the time to get her story straight. Always a straight shooter, Helen didn't like the idea of concocting some crazy story. 

She finally decided to be honest, to an extent.

Helen was simply going to keep Seamus out of the story she was going to tell Charlie, Bos, and the girls. Not only was she ashamed for being such a sucker, but she was not ready to talk about it. She might not ever be. 

'It isn't like I ask Natalie about her sex life with Pete. Or Alex about Jason," she had grumbled to herself. 

Except both Pete and Jason were nice, likeable, and relatively normal guys. And as far as Dylan knew, they also weren't the mastermind behind any elaborate criminal schemes. 

Why, oh why, could she not find a nice, decent guy? Why did she always have to fall for the bad guy? Even as Dylan, she fell for the bad guys...it had to be some sort of ingrained personality flaw. 

Well, she'd learned her lesson now. 

Eventually, between Tijuana and San Diego, a sort of resignation had settled over her. Her time with Seamus had been great, and a sort of closure, if nothing else. Now they both were moving on. At least she didn't have to worry about Seamus coming after her. 

He hadn't even wanted to face her the morning after.

"Stop it," she told herself. "You're alive. You're going home. You can get back to your life as Dylan, and that's a better life than most people could ever dream of."

So, Helen drove home, had an emotional reunion with her best friends, and received a loving chastisment from both Bosley and Charlie, which she received with humble gratitude. 

She was Dylan again.

"I don't deserve you guys," she told them. "But I am so, so happy to be back."

And she meant it. Even with the ache that had settled around her heart. 

Life went on. Eventually Dylan found a way to store Seamus in the back of her mind, where he didn't hurt her so much. She lost the haunted look to her eyes. Her skin began to glow, and her eyes began to sparkle again. 

One morning, Dylan woke up earlier than usual.

She had been out the night before, to Jason's movie premiere. She had felt sort of weird all night, but she'd chalked it up to all the excitement and bright lights. 

She even had a date, a nice guy Pete worked with, but she had kissed him on the cheek at the end of the night and gone inside. She felt no sparks, even though she had vaguely agreed to a second date. 

Dylan lay awake, confused. Then her stomach clenched painfully as a rush of nausea came upon her. 

"Oh, no," she groaned hurrying to the bathroom. 

She just made it. She puked the contents of her stomach up, and leaned back onto the floor woozily. 

"No more mixing sushi and champagne," she told herself weakly. 

Dylan was sick the next morning. And the morning after that. 

After a few days of dragging into the office, looking as bad as she felt, Alex frowned at her in concern. "Maybe you should see a doctor, Dyl. You might have something else going on."

"It wouldn't hurt, Dylan," Natalie agreed.

"True," Dylan conceded. 

She called and set up an appointment for the next morning. 

At the doctor, she was given the standard treatment. How long had this been going on? Did she have any allergies? Any medical conditions?

"I've always been healthy," Dylan told the doctor honestly. "That's why this is so weird."

The doctor gave her a serious look. "When was your last period?," she asked in a gentle tone.

"Um," Dylan glanced at the calendar on the wall. "It was before I...went on vacation. It was....." 

Her voice trailed off as horrifying realization dawned upon her. 

"Oh, my God," she whispered. 

The pregnancy test was ordered and the results were ready in minutes. 

She was pregnant. 

After her appointment, in which she received lots of advice, a prescription for prenatal vitamins and nausea medicine safe for pregnancy, Dylan was in a daze. 

She filled her prescriptions and went home. 

She dropped the prescriptions and her keys on the counter and stared out the window of her kitchen. 

She didn't know how long she stood standing there before Natalie showed up, Alex trailing behind her. 

"Knock, knock," Alex called, coming into the kitchen. "We've been trying to call. How'd it go?"

Both girls stopped short at the sight of Dylan standing there, her face stricken. 

"Dylan?" Natalie said, her brow puckered. 

Dylan took in their concerned faces. 

Then she burst into tears. 

Somehow the story came out in a tangled mess.

Dylan managed to stop herself before mentioning Seamus having the rings and what he had planned to do with them. Something stopped her. A sort of unspoken pact she had with Seamus. 

Which was ridiculous, but she still didn't breathe a word of it. 

Natalie and Alex managed to sort through the story, and comforted Dylan the best they could. 

Dylan wasn't having any of it. 

"I am such an idiot," she said in a wobbly voice. "What is wrong with me? I mean, sleeping with the guy I sent to prison? That is seriously messed up. And now this," she gestured to her still flat stomach. 

Natalie hugged her. "You are _not_ an idiot, Dylan," she said hotly, stroking her hair. "You were feeling vulnerable and he drugged you, for goodness sake! You weren't even feeling like yourself."

"No, you were an idiot," Alex countered calmly. 

"Alex!" Natalie yelped. "She was not!"

"I think we all know how babies are made. And being blinded by lust is no excuse to forget. You weren't even in touch with reality, Dylan. No wonder this happened."

"I know," Dylan whispered. 

Alex hugged Dylan, ignoring Natalie's outraged look. "We are going to get you through this. No matter what you decide to do, Nat and I will be by your side."

"Yes," Natalie agreed vehemently. 

Dylan felt fresh tears come at her words. "You guys," she mumbled.

  
Natalie and Dylan insisted on feeding Dylan some vegetable soup. They also made sure Dylan took her vitamin before bed. ("It says on this expecting mothers forum that taking the vitamin before bed reduces the effects of nausea from the vitamin and increases the chances of absorbing the nutrients," Alex informed them, checking her phone.)

Natalie hugged Dylan before she and Alex left. "Are you sure you'll be okay by yourself tonight?"

Dylan smiled bravely. "Yes," she responded. "I'm showering and going straight to bed."

"Take tomorrow off," Alex suggested. "We'll cover for you. We'll let you tell Bos and Charlie when you're ready."

Dylan nodded in agreement. 

True to her word, Dylan took a shower and went straight to bed. 

She chose to sleep in boy briefs and the David Bowie t-shirt. She smoothed the garment down over her stomach thoughtfully. 

Shaking her head, Dylan got into bed. She thought she would lay awake for hours, but she fell asleep right away. 

Dylan woke in the dead of night, all her senses on high alert. She knew two things. The first was that she wasn't alone. The second was that she was in no great condition to fight off an intruder, because her nausea was upon her as soon as she opened her eyes. 

Listening, Dylan heard a sound coming from her kitchen.

Pills rattling? 

She sat up and slid out of her bed quietly. She took her pistol from its hiding place beside her bed and crept quietly into the kitchen. 

The dark silhouette of a man stood stock still as Dylan approached, gun aimed. 

The person moved toward the sound of her voice.

"Don't move," she growled. "I'm armed, and I am _so_ not in the mood for any of your bullshit."

The shadowy figure raised its hands slowly. 

"I'm turning on the light," the voice spoke slowly and clearly. 

But the accent....

Dylan lowered the gun weakly. 


	4. Chapter 4

The light above her stove snapped on. 

Seamus stood before her, holding her medicine. 

"What's this?" His voice was controlled, quiet. 

They regarded one another silently.

"What are you doing here?" Helen finally asked. She was proud of the steady control in her voice. Inside she was quaking. 

She felt so many emotions roiling through it that it made her light-headed. 

Relief that he was alive. 

Anger that he had left her without a word then just waltzed right back into her house months later, going through her stuff. 

Happiness to see him standing in front of her. 

Sadness at the situation she was in. 

Fear at not knowing how he would react. 

"I asked you first," Seamus sat the medicine down on her counter calmly. 

Helen was so tired. She was so exhausted from heartbreak. And she was terrified, covering this life-altering, unchartered territory. 

He did _not_ get to break into her house and demand answers to _any_ questions. Hell no. 

Yes, anger was the most useful emotion at the moment. She went with that. 

"I'm pregnant, Seamus. Imagine that! Now, those would be prenatal vitamins, and also some medicine that's supposed to keep me from puking every waking moment of the day. That's what _that_ is. Now, you tell me where the hell you've been. And what the hell you're doing here, in my house, in the middle of the night."

She wasn't sure in the dim lighting, but she could have sworn Seamus went pale. 

"You're pregnant?" Seamus swallowed. "Is it....is it mine?"

Helen blinked incredulously at him. "Oh, my god," she laughed, shaking her head, backing away slowly. "You absolute _asshole_."

Seamus stared at her, stricken. 

"I'm sorry. I just....I had to know for certain. I haven't seen you in months."

"And whose fault is that?" Helen asked bitterly, gripping her bedroom door frame.

"Oh, don't play the jilted lover, Helen. I told you what I was doing. What was I supposed to do, take you along with me? Risk killing us both? A real Bonnie and Clyde situation, that would have been. Sure, I might tend to be reckless from time to time, but I'm not stupid."

"You didn't just have to disappear, Seamus."

"Yes, Helen, I did," he shot back impatiently. "If anything had gone wrong, if they had traced me back to that room with you....I had to get you out of there. I knew you'd go home, you'd be safer that way."

"And that's all there was to it? Still doesn't explain why you're here."

"I was on the run. I still am, actually....but I wanted to see you, Helen."

"If you're looking for a booty call, I'm afraid now isn't the best time." Helen shot back. 

Seamus stepped closer to her. "I missed you, Helen. God help me, I missed you so fucking much. And now..." He trailed off, his eyes lingering on her stomach.

"Surprise," Helen said bitterly.

"Don't be like that." Seamus frowned at her in disapproval. 

"Like what?" Helen retorted. "Am I supposed to tell you that you broke my heart? That I finally, _finally_ decided to try and get over you, only to find out that I'm pregnant with your baby? Am I supposed to take you to bed, have amazing sex, fall for you all over again, then wake up alone? I can't do that, Seamus. I can't turn it off and on like you can."

"Helen," Seamus pressed his lips together a moment before he continued. "I shouldn't be here. But here I am. Because I missed you. I can't stop thinking about you, and the last thing I wanted to do was to leave you that morning. But I had to do it. "

Helen felt her heart jump at his words, but she didn't give an inch. "And what happens now?"

He stepped closer and she could see lines of exhaustion creasing his face. He hadn't shaved in a few days and his clothes were rumpled. 

"Right now? I want to be with you," he said. As if it were that simple. 

"For tonight? For a few nights? To come and go, until one day you don't show up ever again?"

"Damn it, Helen!" His voice came out in a hiss, behind gritted teeth. "I can't make you any promises! You knew that in Mexico!"

"I didn't know, Seamus. After what I had done to you....and then, later, when we....I didn't know what to think. I thought you were done with me."

Seamus came closer, his expression soft. 

"I want to be with you forever, okay? As twisted as it is, I love you. And I wish I could get down on my knee, and give you a diamond, and marry you, and raise this baby, and maybe other babies, like one big happy family. But that isn't in the cards for us."

Helen felt tears coming. "I love you too, Seamus. God help me, I do. So, so much. But I have to think about the big picture here."

"What are you saying?" He looked at her suspiciously. "You're not thinking of getting rid of the baby are you?"

"No," she answered quietly. "It had crossed my mind, but I decided I couldn't bring myself to do that. It's a part of you, and I don't regret creating it."

Seamus covered the last few steps between them and took her in his arms. "Thank you," he whispered, kissing her softly. 

She melted into him, laying the hun down on the counter. 

"Would you have really shot me?" Seamus asked, brushing Helen's hair back from her face. 

"Probably," Helen admitted. "It's been a rough day."

Later, Helen laid entwined with Seamus. 

He'd loved her tenderly and slowly, almost reverently. It had been balm for her wounded heart. She'd returned the favor, pouring out everything she had into the act of their lovemaking. 

They were both quiet afterwards, both thinking deep thoughts, but refusing to allow anything to disturb their temporary paradise. 

"How long can you stay?" 

Though she hated to break the spell, Helen had to get some stuff straight. 

Seamus rolled until his forehead touched hers. 

"I'm here to give my family their cut of the buyer's fee. Then I go back to Mexico. A man doesn't just travel with 42 million dollars all at once, you know."

Helen sat up and gawked at him. 

"Seamus. Did you say 42 million _dollars_? Are you serious?"

Seamus sat up too. 

"Well, yeah. Did you think I'd risk so much for anything less?"

"What about the rings?" Helen asked, biting her lip. 

"Yes, the rings," Seamus answered, sliding out of bed. "About that...."

He reached into the pocket of his discarded pants. 

"I think you should be the one give them back." Seamus dropped the two heavy rings into Helen's hand. 

"Me?" She stared down at her palm, where the rings glinted in the moonlight. "Why me?"

Seamus smiled crookedly. "You're on them. It only seems fair."

Helen closed them in her fist. "Okay. I'll do it."

"Okay, then," Seamus responded, kissing her. "Take your friends with you. Those two girls. I don't want you going anywhere with those alone."

"How much trouble are you in, Seamus?" Helen asked him, biting her lip. 

He shrugged. "A bit."

Helen sighed and placed the rings in her bedside drawer. "Seamus...can't you just hide here?"

He laughed. "Tempting. Mighty tempting, but you know I can't. Wish I could, though," he nuzzled her. 

"I know you're leaving, and I hate it." Helen felt the tears coming. "When will I see you again?"

Seamus sighed. "You know I can't answer that, Helen. As soon as I can, okay?"

"Okay," Helen whispered. 

Seamus settled back down into the bed with her. "You should sleep," he whispered. 

Helen shook her head, though her eyes were heavy. "I don't want to. When I wake up, you'll be gone."

Seamus kissed her. "I'll do everything I can to come back for you. Both of you," he added, tenderly placing his palm on her stomach. 

Helen curled into him. "Be safe, Seamus. I love you."

"And I love you," he responded, his hands stroking her back in gentle motions. 

Helen drifted off into an uneasy sleep. 

She woke up alone. 


	5. Chapter 5

Dylan followed the same routine, almost daily. 

She got up early, and ate some fruit. She walked the half mile to the beach near her house and stared out at the waves. The continuous motion of the great body of water lapping at her feet as it rolled in and out soothed her in ways she couldn't really explain. 

The baby seemed to like it, too. The little one seemed to be active as time went on. Her doctor assured her that was normal, and even a good sign. Dylan enjoyed the company, was relieved her baby seemed healthy, but the continuous kicks and prods on her innards was sometimes painful and exhausting. 

"You're going to keep me on my toes," Dylan spoke to her rounded stomach in quiet moments. "You're always moving, and you hardly ever seem to sleep. Just like your dad."

Dylan kept to herself. She took classes: prenatal yoga, pregnancy-safe Pilates, and even signed up for childbirth classes. She figured nobody could prepare someone for childbirth, not really, but she needed something to keep her busy and occupied. 

She and Bos, disguised as a boring couple called Lane and Vera, attended the classes together. It was amusing and the bright spot of Dylan's days, laughing to herself as Bos navigated the lessons with her. 

" _You're_ changing the dirty diapers," Bosley told her after he put the diaper on the practice doll. Not only did he put it on backwards, but he managed to somehow also put it on securely, sideways. Twice. 

Several couples shot them looks, ranging from concerned to amused. It only made Dylan laugh harder. 

"Thank you, Bos," Dylan told him as they parted ways after their post-class dinner, a weekly routine she'd come to grow fond of. Bos told her stories from his childhood and little tidbits about himself here and there. Whether this was a bonding thing, or Bos sensed her vulnerability and sought to help level their connection, Dylan didn't know. She just appreciated his efforts and kindness. 

"You know I'd do anything for you girls," Bos smiled in a paternal way at her. "But I'm still not changing diapers. Don't ask."

Dylan stifled a laugh. "Don't worry. You're off the hook on that one."

Dylan arrived home at dusk. She had been given desk duty, which was as boring as it sounded, during her pregnancy.

Charlie had been baffled by her situation at first. He'd never had a pregnant Angel in his agency. But he'd quickly adapted, especially after Dylan assured him she didn't plan on leaving the agency after the baby was born. 

"Dylan, you do what's best for you and the baby," Charlie told her through the speaker, his voice upbeat and reassuring as always. "But I would hate to lose you."

"You won't," Dylan assured him. "I'd hate to lose you all, as well."

  
Dylan looked around the empty house and sighed. What she would love is a glass of wine, or a bourbon, neat, and a long, hot bath.

None of which she could have.

Despite the tiredness that seemed to always plague her, Dylan felt restless tonight. She decided to talk a walk. 

She locked her house, set the alarm, and set off toward the beach.

About a block away from her house, she realized she was being tailed. 

Dylan nonchalantly detoured onto the boardwalk, making a point to gather with a crowd admiring an art show. She stopped in front of a portrait of wildlife in the desert. Cacti, coyotes digging in the sand. A buzzard circling overhead. 

Dylan smiled at the artist, beaming a proud and nervous smile. She was barely in her 20's, dressed in a black sheath with wild hair. 

"This is fantastic," Dylan told her, hoping she was conveying believable enthusiasm. She didn't know much about art. "Is it for sale?"

The girl's mouth flew open. "Yes, it is," she answered with barely contained excitement. 

Dylan pulled out a couple of hundred dollar bills. "Thank you so much. I know exactly where I'm going to display this."

She left the boardwalk with her painting, the artist celebrating with her friends. 

Oh, to be that young again, Dylan thought wistfully. She tucked the painting under her arm and set off for the tables set up about 40 yards away. 

She chose one closest to the surf. The waves rushing in provided a sense of privacy, a cover. 

Dylan didn't have to wait long. She was soon joined by a woman, a toned brunette with great legs and a killer smile. 

"Dylan," red lips and white teeth flashed in a face with a smooth expression. "Look at you, supporting a budding young artist. How.... _motherly_."

"Madison Montgomery," Dylan said quietly. "Wow. I'm honored."

The woman before her smirked. 

Madison had been an Angel years ago. She was something of a legend, not only for being a top agent, but also for going rogue. 

She'd disappeared on assignment after double crossing her partners and nobody had heard from her since. 

Of course there had been rumours of what she'd been up to. Word was that she was very wealthy and powerful in the underground criminal sense. 

Dylan smiled and shrugged. "It caught my eye. The painting, I mean."

"Well", Madison leaned back in her seat and stared out over the ocean a moment. "You wouldn't be much of an Angel otherwise. Classic moves. Detour, distract, and it _would_ be divide, but you're all alone aren't you?"

Dylan waited. 

Madison sighed. "Look, I know you're expecting and all that. I'm sure you probably have to pee or need a pickle right now. So I'll get to the point."

Madison slapped something down on the table. 

It was a picture of Seamus carrying an unconscious Dylan (or, Helen) in Mexico. 

"I need to know where Seamus is," Madison continued. "He double crossed me, that _sneaky_ bastard."

She flashed a wry smile.

"Killed both of my best guys, took a lot of money, and also took something _very_ important to me."

Dylan felt her heart sputter for a moment. She stared at Madison. "I haven't seen Seamus since Mexico." 

"Really?" Madison raised a skeptical brow. "I'm willing to wager that you have."

Madison leaned forward, giving Dylan a smile that chilled her blood. 

"In fact," she continued softly, "I'm positive that you have good reason to keep in contact with him. And Dylan? Just between us Angels... I'm not to be trifled with. Not even a little bit. My time and my money are precious. So, let him know that if he continues to run, well...." Madison leaned back, giving a delicate shrug. "He isn't the only one with a temper. It isn't wise to provoke mine. If he isn't going to play fair, neither am I."

Dylan barely had time to blink before something fast and shiny whizzed her way. Out of pure instinct she raised the painting in front of her face. A knife sliced through it cleanly, mere centimeters from her eye. 

"Still got it, Dyl!" Madison stood up, all smiles. "Well done. Oh, and about that, nothing personal. Just an eye for an eye. Do pass on my message if you see Seamus, 'kay?"

Madison left as quickly as she had arrived. Dylan lowered the painting, hands trembling. 

  
She waited an hour, lingering around the boardwalk. She ate ice cream, window shopped. 

She didn't want to go home. Not only was she certain now that Madison had eyes on her, she knew she couldn't lead Seamus into a trap. 

She couldn't lead trouble to Nat and Alex, either. 

Dylan sighed. She walked home. Despite doubling back and taking several different routes, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. 

"Screw this," Dylan grumbled. She stopped in front of her house, unlocking her car on the side of the road. 

She slung the painting and her newly acquired knife into the passenger seat and drove away.

After she had driven north for about an hour, Dylan called Natalie. 

"Hello," Natalie sang in her cheerful tone. 

"Nat, hey," Dylan said in a normal tone. "I'm on my way to the ski lodge for a few days. Just wanted to let you know."

Natalie paused, then said brightly, "Well, don't do any skiing, Dyl. You don't want to deliver that baby on the slopes!"

Dylan forced a laugh. "No way! Just maybe some hot cocoa, enjoying the view. A little R & R."

"All right. Well, safe travels! Call me if you need me."

"Thanks, Nat. See ya!" 

They hung up. 

Dylan drove north until dawn. She only stopped to pee once. And get a coffee, despite her internal protest against drinking coffee while pregnant. 

"Sorry, little one," Dylan said, gulping the hot brew down. "It's kind of an emergency situation."

Finally Dylan arrived at her destination for the day. It was a small, sleepy town called -no joke- Angels Camp. It boasted loads of Victorian style homes and heavily wooded areas. 

Dylan drove through the town, turned off onto a gravel road lined with pine trees. 

She parked in front of the house and went inside. Soon, a man came out and pulled her car into the garage. 

The garage doors closed, and all was quiet for a while. 


End file.
